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Emelia's Diary
Notice= This is all fictional, the characters involved and the events it discusses. Any resemblance to real people is purely coincidental and the characters were made by the author. |-| Note for Ileana= Pity does not get you aid. Admiration at your refusal to give in does. You were right. I'm so glad you got me to read that - now I've written this down, I think I might be able to stop giving into it. I really don't care whether you guys know about what happened or not - I think I needed somebody to know who I am. Well, now you do, I guess. If you read it at all, that is - I'm not sure if you did or not, but if you didn't, I just wanted you to know that I thank you for that. I can't keep asking people to carry me. I need to relearn to stand on my own two feet again, I need to keep trying. I want to be the me that you were friends with again. I'm going to try and not give in. Thanks. :) ~Emelia |-| Poem= Our love is the cherry tree in the garden - sometimes blossoming with beautiful pink petals, sometimes green and sporting ripened red fruits, or sometimes letting golden leaves drift away - but at other times it is bare and snowy. Whilst it has lost its beauty and its leaves - it still stands tall against the snow and cold - still surviving. It might not live in the same way - but it exists, it is there, it is alive. People may scorn at its ugliness, its bareness, but it clings to life like a child to its mother. That is us. Our love is hidden and people think it is over you might even believe it yourself. But somewhere it lives, somewhere it hides to become blossoming again come the warmer times. |-| First Page= I would never usually rely on something like a diary to put things in, but now, as my life explodes with emotions like a bomb went off in my head, I have little choice if I want to keep it hidden. Because revealing my heartache hasn't done me many favours at all...maybe putting it in an inanimate object may help me. I don't see how one mistake could have separated us like this - I've tried 'sorry', I've shed bitter tears, I've tried explaining... I want to try. I want to do that too, so I can get on with my life, but I can't despise them. I'm unsure where to turn...Laena and Aaron don't seem to hate me, and I had a normal conversation with Lera the other day, so maybe she doesn't blame me. Alfred doesn't, either, though I don't know how that helps. I could consider them friends, I guess. But losing Cristi was the most hurtful of them all, the things he said cut me like one of my own knives. I never cry...but their betrayal made my strongholds break, and now I can't stop. Don't you get it? None of us want you in our lives. At all. So go. He said, and I snapped - I couldn't control myself, at all. I was kind of...fighting it, I guess. But whether he understood that I will never know, considering he wants nothing to do with me. For a while, I thought somebody needed me. But we fell apart like this. We were so sure of our future - one obstacle and everyone falls. My whole life sings Jason Walker and Trading Yesterday, and I find myself hung up on those songs that seem to understand me, because then it seems that something does. I just need someone to need me. That's selfish, I know..but.. |-| Second Page= It was too good to be true...I knew it, and yet I clung to the hope of it being reality. I am stupid...I am dumb...I am nothing, and that is the truth of it. I can't do anything right. For most young people, being alone is difficult and a cause for boredom, which in turn is a difficulty that most find practically insurmountable and intolerable. It's generally not a nice thing, unless being alone is your intention - but being alone is never my intention. I am only alone when people walk out on me and lock the doors and windows, and even then I will pound desperately upon them, needing to get out and see somebody - even if they're my enemy. Sometimes, when I am alone, I would be glad of the presence of Rasskazov. That is because of monophobia. Monophobia is "the fear of being alone." So, whilst being alone is hard for most, for me it is just a terrifying prospect. It is the worst of scenarios, being locked in a dark room, alone. Never mind the dark part, if it was lighter I would know there was nobody else there. At least if it was dark, I could pretend. The darkness is a good companion, those who are afraid of it overlook its great companionship or its friendship when it wraps around you. And I let it in to my life, to mask me, to hide my history. There is darkness within me, too, where nobody can see it until I let it out. That is when I snap. So, when my other, more favourable companions, the Aces, walked out on me and locked the doors and windows, I was alone, and I could see that I was alone, because it was not dark. I went home to Romania for awhile, and even then I was alone because my mother and father were in Montenegro for some reason. So...the monophobia took hold, and it was horrifying for me. I was already crazy and I knew it, the Aces and I joked about how I belonged in an asylum...but what began to happen still horrified me. It was as if someone had begun to choke me - I couldn't breathe - even after the original bout had passed I was hyperventilating. I heard voices murmuring "Congratulations," in sarcastic voices, ones I was sure I knew. I was reaching out to those voices, because they were human, almost unaware that they were only in my head, that they were not real. I was willing them to be real, so that in some way I was not alone. If they saw me now, they would know that I am not as strong as I like to make believe that I am, the facade that I put up. There was a reason for that facade - so that nobody really knows me. I don't want anyone to know me, not this side of me. They would laugh, and taunt, and they would pretend to befriend me...but in the end I would wind up alone. In the end it would always be my monophobia and I, with my shadow as my only friend. But if they don't know me...maybe they won't know how much it wounds me. How much it hurts me. How much it feels like they stab me every time they turned me away. And I don't want them to know that. If they knew that, I would be different, not the person they befriended. So I hide, trying to distract myself. In the end, it is always my monophobia and I. And so...I let it in. I don't let anybody see how much it hurts. How when they're gone, it makes me nothing. I hide from them and their curiosities, keeping myself veiled in shadows. And so, I let the darkness in again...and the vicious cycle rolls on. |-| Third Page= I can’t bottle it up anymore…it’s just too much. My past bears down on me like a weight I need to lift. And the present is just adding more and more weight…and eventually my strength will fail and I’ll no longer be able to lift the weight. Who knows what will happen when that happens? I do. I’ll explode…like a grenade, and destroy everything in my path. Anyone who ever cared about me caught in an exploding fireball of grief and pain…and I don’t want that. I might have magic…a wand…but there’s nothing to contain my feelings. I’m too explosive to be contained. Nobody understands. They just shunt me aside as selfish. Nobody gets. And I’m starting to think nobody ever will. So...before the pain consumes me, I'm going to write it down. I don't know if anyone but me will ever see it. I'm scared of showing weakness. But...there is good reason for my monophobia that nobody knows about. The crap that nobody knows about. That nobody knows about except me...the burdens I've had to carry alone for years. But the backpack is too heavy for me now, so I have to put it down somewhere, even if it might be found. My parents were teen parents. But they couldn't keep me at EESM because Rasskazov (that asshole) wouldn't let them. That's why I hate Rasskazov so much...but nobody knows that's the underlying reason. That one decision put me through seven years of hell...and those seven years of hell are part of what drives me insane, made me as dark as I am. I was left on the doorstep of a snowy Romanian orphanage in a blanket. It was cold and wet, and I did not like it - so I cried, and cried. In those moments before they turned and left, I am sure it almost seemed that, if it weren't for Rasskazov, they could have parented me - but he sent me to an unknown place...away from my parents...where all sorts of horrors happened to me. The first year or so was fine, but I would fall asleep to the sickening crescendo of crying children, harsh staff voices and slaps that cracked the silence. But I could never see them. They locked me up for having wizarding blood...we were all isolated from one another, and in seven years I never saw another child. We were served our meals in our little box-rooms, and even they were meagre. I got caught trying to escape out of a window - I lost count of how many times the belt hit and how the sound of some of the other children laughing floated through the walls, and the Romanian screams of the ladies watching me still haunt me. That was a common occurrence. Trying to escape. I remember a kid died once, they snapped their neck falling out of the first story window. They almost made it, and they'd have been the first. I remember sneaking a peek out of mine and seeing the body, and that enters my dreams every so often too. We didn't hold a funeral because we weren't allowed out. I still have scars in some places, from trying to escape from that place. My liberty came with the most terrifying memory. I'd stolen a knife from the kitchen - I was seven, and I wanted to scare somebody into letting me out. I was going mad of the not seeing anybody...but when they came in, I actually hit my target without meaning to - I'd been aiming for the wall but it hit the nurse instead. They sent me back to my parents...they were all scared of me. The second time I was alone, for any length of time, Rasskazov isolated me. I almost died in there. I'd almost killed Rasskazov, actually, it was about an inch, and I would have bled to death from a wound - I think I threw myself to the floor purposefully - to knock myself out so I'd either sleep or die because I was fatigued - I was monophobiac by then and I needed to get out of my fearzone. Cristi found me passed out on the floor, lying in what he called a 'scary pool of blood.' The third time, I snapped and almost killed Cristi. I don't know what I did there at all because I don't remember it, but according to him and Laena I went all sarcastic and deadly on him, I was blaming him for everything...it was awful. So every time I've been alone extensively...something's happened. What is it with me, damnit? Why can't I just live normally? Maybe I could have a memory charm and start anew, but that would mean leaving the Aces behind - and I just couldn't do it. Even if they've said 'screw you' and stuff to me, decided not to care in others' cases...I still do. I can't let go of everything we've done. I just hope writing it helps me, because otherwise, I'll go over the edge. Maybe...maybe things will get better. Maybe.